I rolled over in my bed and gazed out the window. Snow; it was fluttering down gracefully to the ground below just as it had on this day last year.
I grabbed hold of my pillow, buried my face in it and began to cry. Today was the one year anniversary of my mother’s death and there I lay recalling the event in the sheltered darkness of my room. I heard a knock on my door.
“C-c-come in” I said between sobs. It was my father.
“Are you planning on getting ready for school any time soon?” he asked.
I looked up at him from behind my pillow to reveal my tearful face. He looked surprised.
“Are you alright?” he asked in a confused tone.
“Mom died a year ago today, do you think I’m alright!” I plunged my face back into the pillow and cried even harder. He looked blankly into thin air for a couple of moments.
“Oh yes, that’s right,” he finally said. “I suppose you can stay home just for today.”
The room fell completely silent.
“Well we wouldn’t want me to be late for work now would we?”
I shot him a look of pure hatred and turned over to face the window so I wouldn’t have to look at him anymore. A few more moments passed before I heard the door close and my father’s footsteps as he retreated down the hall. Once again I lay in complete darkness.
How could he not remember the death of his own wife? I can’t even get out of bed; the least he could have done was acknowledge it.
I shot up in my bed and looked all about my room. The voice sounded like my mother’s.
“Linda,” it came again. Yes it was definitely hers; but how?
“Mom, is that you?” I asked nervously.
“Linda. Over here.”
My eyes fixed on to the far wall. The voice was coming from a portrait of my mother which had been put up not a week after her tragic death.
“Come,” she said to me.
Suddenly there was a flash of white light and I was no longer in my room.
I found myself in a long field. Snow was falling from the sky and landing softly to cover the quickly decaying vegetation. Something about this place seemed familiar.
“Up here,” came the sound of my mother’s voice.
I looked up to see a cliff hanging high above the snowy waste land. Everything rushed back to me. Our cottage was at the top of the mountain just out of view. That’s where I had been when it happened; when my mother had decided to take the plunge and end her own life. I still remember the look of horror on my father’s face when he ran inside to tell me what had happened.
As I stared at the cliff in awe my mothers figure came into view. It was hard to tell but it seemed as if she was smiling down at me.
I tried to shout up at her to turn around but she did not react.
“Mom, please turn around!” I shouted again but it was no use, she was too high up to hear me. Tears rolled down my face as I watched her inch closer and closer to the edge.
Just when my mother could not have gotten any closer she stopped to take in a deep breath. A few moments passed and she exhaled. I covered my eyes in an attempt to shelter myself from what was about to happen, but she didn’t jump. She turned around to face the cottage and began to walk away.
A smile crossed my face but it was soon erased as I watched a pair of arms push my mother backwards off of the cliff.
I cried out in terror as I watched my mother plunge to her death from the mountain above. She landed no more than five meters away from where I stood with a heavy thud. I ran over to where her body lay and I held her.
“I love you Linda. Never forget it.”
These were the last words the last words I heard from her before she went limp in my arms.
“Mom, come back to me!” I shouted through continuous sobbing. But it was no use. She was gone.
I looked back up at my father who stood stalk still at the top of the mountain. He seemed to be grinning down from above. In one swift motion he turned away and disappeared into a veil of snow.
I looked back down to where I had been holding my mother’s body but it was no longer there. Instead I found myself holding onto my pillow. I was back in my room.
“Linda. Promise you will never forget me,” my mother’s voice came from the portrait.
Her mouth curved into a smile and then the portrait went still. I lay back down and continued to weep. How would I ever be able to live with the man who killed my mother?
This was forA7XRicas Relate it contest. The picture can be seen below and my word was shout.
© Copyright 2016 JordanP. All rights reserved.
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